


Not Dead

by Drag0n_Fire



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Derealization, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mourning Era, Panic Attacks, Swearing, drug mention, technically potions but you know, there's kinda comfort in the last paragraph but, this is all written about the characters and just the characters not any real people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29890647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0n_Fire/pseuds/Drag0n_Fire
Summary: When it is clear that Tubbo is done, Ranboo finally opens his mouth. Most likely a mistake. “But-he’s-he’s not dead, Tubbo.”---The death of Tommy finally hits Ranboo.(written before Tommy's stream "am i dead?")
Relationships: Ranboo & Tubbo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Not Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is kinda heavy so please stay safe! I'd suggest double checking the tags, I know recent events in the Dream SMP have been pretty rough.

The otherworldly smell, thick with heat and bringing a chemical-like sting to his nostrils, is familiar to Ranboo. Despite familiarity being his comfort to trump all comforts, this does not comfort him. 

“Tubbo?” The door needs a rough shove to release it’s grainy grip on the doorframe, but after that it opens with ease. Fixing that very door is one of the many things on their abandoned to-do list.

The air is stale with those sickening fumes. Ranboo pushes past the way his lungs close up. “Tubbo?” He pulls his sleeves down onto his hands and holds them against his eyes. A precaution against watering eyes and the burns that come with them. “Tubbo?”

“What?” In the far corner of the room, with a sharp, scratchy voice, Tubbo turns around. His hair is awkwardly pushed back from his half-open, purple-ringed eyes and sticks up in places. His shirt is even more sloppily buttoned up than usual, bearing an array of colorful stains. He is leaning heavily against the wall, surrounded,  _ surrounded _ by brewing stands.

“I-” Ranboo presses his mismatched hands to his chest, to keep them from fidgeting, to try and keep away the pressure of the smell. “You-uh, what-what are you doing?”

Tubbo looks at him for a moment, then snorts, “Drugs.” He loosely sweeps a hand to display the barrier of bubbling brewing stands and unsteady bottles around him. “I am making drugs.”

A short laugh comes out of Ranboo, “I-yeah, I-I-uh. Wha-why?”

Leaning farther into the wall, Tubbo looks as if he is going to close his eyes, but keeps them open, staring at Ranboo. “To carry on Tommy’s legacy, of course.” He tilts his head, and it slides against the wall to rest on his shoulder. He sighs. “You wouldnt-you weren’t there, at the beginning. It was a drug-” he barks out a short laugh, “-a fucking drug cartel.”

_ I’ve heard about it _ , Ranboo wants to say. He doesn’t. He is still shocked by the first statement. “What-what do you mean, ‘carry on Tommy’s legacy’?” 

Tubbo’s head falls from his shoulder and his chin rests on his chest instead. His eyes are finally turned away from Ranboo. “What do you expect me to do? Just start crying and shit like a little bitch? Tommy would lose his shit laughing at me from purgatory or wherever the hell he is.” Tubbo looks up to offer a weak grin. “Pun intended.”

Ranboo gives him a small imitation laugh.

“I’m not sure that even matters. Can he even see me right now? Is he anywhere at all? Fuck if I know.”

When it is clear that Tubbo is done, Ranboo finally opens his mouth. Most likely a mistake. “But-he’s-he’s not dead, Tubbo.”

Tubbo blinks at him, then wildly scans the mess of bottles scattered across the floor. “Did you already have some without me?”

“I-what? No. No, I-I didn’t.” Something heavy and tangled begins creeping into Ranboo’s fume-filled chest.

“Then what the fuck are you on.”

Ranboo is silent for a moment, before he thinks to nervously giggle. “Wha-what? No-nothing! Me? High?” Tubbo does not laugh, just continues expecting. An explanation, if Ranboo had to guess. “O-okay. Um, can we-can we talk out-outside?,” Ranboo presses his sleeves back to his eyes, which have begun to water. 

Tubbo nods and clumsily picks his way through his mess. Ranboo resists the urge to help him as he stumbles after Ranboo. He grabs a coat on his way out, then steps back to grab one for Tubbo as well.

The wind is weak, but it startles him nonetheless when it hits his face. Tubbo takes the coat from his arms and slumps against the door after sliding it on. He turns to Ranboo. “Tommy’s dead. You know that, right?”

“No he’s not,” Ranboo says immediately. 

Tubbo raises his eyebrows and turns more fully to Ranboo. “Yes... _ Yes _ he is, Ranboo.”

“He’s not! I don’t understand why you’re-”

“ _ You _ don’t understand?”

“-you’re changing sides!”

“Sides?”

“Yes!” Ranboo waves his arms, hoping he doesn’t start pacing. “We-we agreed that Tommy isn’t dead. Remember? Tommy isn’t actually dead.”

Tubbo’s face scrunches up and his eyes wander, searching for the missing puzzle piece. “Sam said-”

“It’s a trick! It’s a trick, he’s lying!” Ranboo’s hands settle onto his head, trying to steady the buzzing inside. “He’s lying to us all! We-we can’t trust anyone. They're all on different  _ sides _ .” He hisses out the last word.

“He’s not lying this time.” Tubbo’s voice isn’t as soft, as gentle as Ranboo expects, as he secretly hopes.

“How do you know? How do you  _ know _ ?” Ranboo turns his whole self away from Tubbo now. “There’s no body. We didn’t see any body. There’s no  _ proof _ .” Ranboo knows Tubbo likes proof, if the room cob-webbed with red string is anything to go by.

“That’s because Sam already buried him,” Tubbo’s voice is slow. “He made a grave, too.”

“What about the last time, huh? The last time you thought Tommy was dead.” A sharp inhale. “There was no body then, either, but you saw the pillar and instantly believed it.”

“You don’t get to say that.” The wind has died down, leaving Tubbo as the only sound. “You don’t get to use that against me.”

Ranboo stills. The gaze on his back freezes him.

“ _ Why _ would you say that?” Tubbo’s voice breaks, but not gently, not wetly. It is sharp, ridged. Dry heat. “Why would you say that? You-no.  _ No _ .”

Ranboo turns back to face Tubbo, unconsciously hunching down. “Because-because he’s not dead!”

“Go visit his grave then!” Ranboo jumps at his volume. “Go see it for yourself! I know you haven’t.”

“I,” Hot, squiggly lines bunch together in his stomach and crawl into his tight chest. “Fine! I will! I’ll-I’ll-” His eyes flicker around, and an arm that feels unconnected to his body grabs a shovel he spots lying against the wall of the cottage. “I’ll  _ prove _ to you I’m right!”

“What-”

“There’s no body at that grave!”

“Ranboo-”

“I’ll show you! I’ll-I’ll-I’m gonna dig up that grave with-with this shovel,” His arms jerks the iron shovel, “And there’s gonna be no body!”

Tubbo’s face goes white. He starts shaking like the squiggles in Ranboo’s chest. “Ran- _ don’t _ . Don’t. Ranboo don’t.”

“You want proof, don’t you?!”

“I don’t want that. I don’t-”

“You won’t believe me! You won’t believe me unless there’s proof!”

“No. Don’t.”

“I’ll give you proof! I’ll dig up that grave! That-that  _ fake _ grave! I’ll dig it up, and around it too!”

“Ranboo, stop.”

“I’ll clear the whole area! All of it! The whole place will-I’ll clear the whole place! Empty! It’ll be empty, because there’s no body!”

“Stop.”

“There’s nothing there! There’s gonna be nothing there because it’s not real! It’s not my fault! I didn’t do it! Nothing is there! He’s lying!”

“Please! Please stop! Stop!”

“There’s nothing-”

His hands are wrenched open by something leaving them. The shovel.

He watches it be thrown into the snow.

Hands. Arms. A puffy jacket. Tears. Noises. Crying?

Tubbo. 

Tubbo is sobbing between screaming gasps, standing, swaying right in front of him. He is not looking up at Ranboo, but instead down at the ground. He reaches out, his cold, shaking fingers touch Ranboo’s.

Ranboo flinches away. Tubbo’s hands fall back to his sides and the rest of him falls to the ground. Ranboo watches, then his legs buckle and he joins Tubbo.

They stay there on the ground, tears sliding down Tubbo’s reddened cheeks and Ranboo’s mind wrapped in fog.

His face burns. When he reaches up to absently wipe away the feeling, his fingers burn. He reaches instead to Tubbo. He understands and reaches for Ranboo. They reach for each other and hug. Ranboo lets Tubbo’s shoulder soak up his tears.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't been good with responding to comments on my other works, but I'll try to respond to them here.


End file.
